The Life of a Fox, Written by HimselfSmith, Thomas
General
The Life of a Fox, Written by Himself
Smith, Thomas
Fox hunting
Having escaped from this lively pack of hounds, I did not venture to
remain in this part, but at once took up my abode near Foulden, where
I was again found by Lord Elcho and his pack, though I fancied I had
selected an out-of-the-way spot near the river Whitadder, with which
part I was well acquainted, as his lordship has reason to know and to
regret. After they had hunted me some time, finding myself distressed,
I was induced to return to my old haunts, creeping along a narrow track
by the side of the steep and rocky bank which overhung the river, the
height of which, where I passed, was nearly a hundred feet. Several
of these high-couraged hounds in attempting to follow me lost their
footing, fell to the bottom, and were killed. It was only strange
that a single hound escaped; and though I certainly did not intend to
assist in preventing their destruction, yet such happened to be the
case; for having waited, when in my narrow track, for some time, and
thinking myself safe, I heard the piercing cry of a hound, which I
then believed was following me. I ran straight along the top of the
precipice, and was seen by the whipper-in and some of the hounds, and
the noise they instantly made by hallooing a view with all their might,
assisted by his lordship blowing his horn, attracted the notice of
the other hounds, or they would otherwise have followed on the line to
certain destruction. I attribute my escape to the powerful effect this
event had on the feelings of the owner of the pack. Lest I should again
lead them back to the same spot, he immediately took them off my scent
and sent them home, and I flattered myself that we should never again
see these hounds run to find a fox in this part of the country; for
the anguish created in his lordship’s mind it is impossible for me to
describe, although it may be easily imagined.
However, all my hopes of living a quiet life here were destroyed. A
great friend of his Lordship’s, and of ours, Mr. Wilkie of Foulden,
near where this occurred, and on whose rabbits I sometimes subsisted,
immediately took measures to prevent the same calamity from happening
again; and although it was hitherto pronounced an impossibility,
he has, as far as I at present can judge of it, succeeded. It was
managed by cutting away my narrow track at the edge of the rock which
overhung the river. To do this required much labour and risk; but it
was effected by suspending a ladder, which was fastened by strong ropes
to stakes driven in the ground some distance above. I need not say
that I watched the work with no great satisfaction; and as I saw the
foundation of my once favourite track fall into the river below, when
they gradually broke it away, it made my heart ache, I felt that I must
now either stay and be killed, or move into another country. I decided
on the latter.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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